So Adam and Ian don’t feel like they play enough D&D. To rectify this, they started playing a text-based adventure with a couple of friends, still using the 5th edition framework. We thought it would be fun to clean up the transcripts of this adventure and start publishing it in weekly chapters here on the site. Let us know what you think, and please share around! If you missed Chapter 1, check it out here!
Disclaimer: This is the transcript of a text-based D&D game played over a period of 6 months. Bad language included. Picture based dice rolls/media omitted. Names changed to preserve anonymity. Goblin based violence frequent. You have been warned.
DM: You notice more guards in town than last time. There are no town walls, but a couple of guards at the end of each road, and a couple patrolling. All have scimitars, leather armour, and white turbans. They wear the blue gloves of the Al’shash guard
Faustus: Reckon we should ask our trader about the guy who gave us the job and what he sent us to get, without letting on that we got it?
Constance: I’d like to talk to a guard please
DM: Okay two separate conversations here. Faustus you said first. Abo of Abo’s provisions, what are your questions?
Faustus: I lack the patience to double check the slim details we have on the dude. I remember the word turban. Can we assume I used all the description I know of the guy (did we have a name) and ask Abo if he knows him?
DM: Yup. No name. Shady guy, face hidden, all in robes and turban
DM: In the Harbour inn
DM: Abo shrugs and says no, and then when the only other customer has left his shop he says to you:
DM: Be careful friends. Abo does not know this man, but not two nights ago he killed someone in the Harbour who tried to threaten him
DM: The guards did nothing.
Constance: (I’m muting for a bit as I’m playing real life dnd. But I’m here)
DM: My wife, she saw him go into the mayor’s house after dark
Faustus: Oof. Spooky kabuki.
Faustus: So he’s well connected and strong.
Faustus: He sent us on a quest to retrieve a gemstone from the tomb of Ptolnos. Have you any idea why anyone would want that?
DM: Ptonos? Ptonos, that was so long ago. I haven’t heard of his gemstone, but he was a mighty magic user many many years ago
DM: Mighty magic**
Faustus: Generally a good or bad guy?
DM: Bad guy! Used to hunt peasants with his spectral hounds
Faustus: I see. So your guess is that anything found in his tomb would likely be bad news
DM: I do not know my friends. But be careful. If the mayor and guard are involved… The mayor has ties back to Cormyra
Bronan: Where is Bronan right now?
DM: I’m assuming you are together at the shop, and now all going to chat to a guard?
Bronan: Ok cool
DM: Anything you’d also like to do bronan?
Bronan: Lemme grab a phb
Bronan: I want to buy a portable ram, which is 4gp and a barrel of ale
DM: How are you planning on transporting the ale?
Bronan: And a small hand cart wheels thing
DM: 15 for the ale, 5 for the cart
Bronan: Then I have 1gp left, can I try to bargain for a refill on the axe ale as well, as I’m spending 24gp?
DM: Easy peasy
DM: Constance what are you asking the guard, any specific guard?
Constance: Just the first one I see that looks vaguely not a dick.
Constance: Hey there! You guys seem to be beefing up security round here!
DM: Who’re you pal? I don’t know you. Watch your step in Al’shash
Bronan: Greetings lawkeeper, do you want ale?
DM: He looks left and right and winks at his buddy
DM: Two ales pal, many thanks
DM: You lads need anything let us know
Bronan: I give them some ale, fresh from the barrel, “my friend here is curious, care for a chat?”
DM: Sure pal. Sure. What do you guys want to know? You seem like fine young people
DM: More guards this week, mayor ordered double shifts
DM: Something about rumours of desert bandits, and we need to keep an eye out for a trade caravan due any day now apparently. Usual shite eh?
Constance: Sounds like a mare my friend! Something important supposed to be coming in?
DM: Not sure. Something for the mayor
Constance: Oh really!? I’ve heard the roads from Cormyra is pretty safe though. Right?
DM: He winks at you
DM: Aye, the roads to Cormyra are safe…
Bronan: Safer with lads Like you on the watch, amiright lads? Cheers!
Bronan: When they run dry i fill their mugs
Bronan: I also offer ale to Faustus and Constance
Faustus: I raise my ale to the guards and drink deeply.
Constance: I sip too.
Bronan: My new Bronan, what shall we call you guys?
DM: Nice. Cheers boys. Two’s our limit though
DM: We are the Muljin brothers, Big Muljin and Little Muljin
DM: You boys better move on or the sergeant might get unhappy. Stay safe though, and if you need anything you come find it
Bronan: No trouble bros, just wanted to help some friends out
Bronan: Constance, Faustus, where next?
Faustus: Hmm. If we go to the pub we might bump into the guy. And he’ll want to know if we have the gem. And if we lie or say we’re not giving it to him, he may murder us.
Bronan: I could eat the gem, that we we say we can’t give it to him right now, but soon?
Bronan: Or we could try somewhere else?
Constance: Hmm. Maybe we could ask around about these bandits? Get some sort of lead on where they took whatever was in that cage?
Faustus: I’m cool with either of those.
Faustus: Would any of the traders look like they can appraise a gemstone?
Constance: Maybe that’s something we shouldn’t be flashing around too much. At least until we get farther away from our mysterious employer.
Bronan: I’m game for whatever, I mean, this ruby is pretty powerful right? So is the guy who wants it? Maybe we hurry and find info and get out of town?
Bronan: What size is the ruby again?
DM: Faustus, none of these traders specialise in magic or magic items so you don’t think any would know more than you already do
DM: Bronan, it’s about the size of a tangerine
Bronan: That’s gonna hurt on the way in and out…
DM: So to recap what you know- your contact has been seen going to the mayor’s house, and recently killed a bar patron over a trivial matter with no repercussions. There are extra guards due to a rumour of bandits, and because they are waiting for a trade caravan
Bronan: Whelp, the trader guy appears a bit evil, and there is a bit of corruption in the town leadership, I say we stage a coup
Bronan: By trader I mean our shrouded contact
Constance: I figure we try to find out two things. 1. Try to get a lead on bandits. 2. Try to find out more about the guy that was killed.
Bronan: Should we look into the bandits first? Investigating the dead guy might make us run into the contact
DM: How would you like to do this?
Bronan: Are there any shady types about?
DM: The streets are fairly bare except the guards. Outside some fruit and water vendors, a few people milling around
DM: Roll perception for me?
Constance: I think finding other adventurers might be a good starting point.
DM: Ask them what they would do in this situation
Constance: More like if they have come across any aarakocra bandits.
DM: I meant ask whoever you are interviewing what they would do in this situation!
DM: But yeah that makes more sense
Bronan: I got a 16 for perception
DM: In a side alley by Abo’s trader, there are two thin men with daggers at their hip, chewing loit, a local herb. They look conspicuously inactive but semi-visible. The guards do not acknowledge them when they patrol past
DM: They look at each other and one sticks another clove of loit in his mouth
DM: It is early for drinking, brother. We have a long day ahead of us. Many thanks though
DM: Are you looking for something?
Bronan: Yes, I hear that there have been some guys stepping into the game outside of town, birdmen
Bronan: Actually hang on, I’ll Bronanise that
Bronan: Bronan hear birdmen are moving into your territory, Bronan want help defend territory against birdmen, birdmen crap on Bronans bedroll when Bronan was child
DM: Can you roll deception
Bronan: Is it a deception? We do want to hunt the bandits, I’ll roll it though one sec
DM: Did the aaracokra bandits poop on your bedroll as a child?
Bronan: Well that’s what his tribe told him
Bronan: It was probably one of his peers playing a prank, however…
Bronan: I keep the log for rolls for the day, so the Nat 20 is deception the 16 perception earlier
DM: Nat 20. Ha.
DM: The two men smile at you.
DM: Funny guy. Birdmen don’t cross the obsidian ridge, we don’t cross the obsidian ridge. They are no bother to us. We stick to Al’shash. But whatever you need here, we can make it happen
DM: Girls, drugs, boys, contraband, information…Faisal and Toma are your guys
Bronan: We need track birdmen, we find birdmen, we smash birdmen
DM: Track the Blessed Wind? Ha. Well. Shit. Let’s talk more away from where we might be overheard.
DM: He gestures down the alley and wanders down it
Bronan: Also we need talk about turban scarf man in tavern, who is he, where he from? Why he so friendly with mayor?
Bronan: Ok good
DM: The two of them laugh and laugh
Bronan: Sir dribbles pikes his head out snorts and pokes his head down again
DM: Friend barbarian…The mysterious turban scarf man in the tavern…that IS the mayor
Bronan: Why he wear turban and scarf? Did mayor fall into fire when child? Get bad tattoo?
DM: No, he thinks nobody knows it is him. He does that to do things a mayor shouldn’t really be doing
Bronan: Ah, like not wash hand after bathroom
DM: Something like that
DM: Now friends, among friends a piece of two of information might go free. But we are businessmen. So now that we are friends and acquainted, and you know our business, know that you may seek us out and for a price we will find you anything
DM: Perhaps even a way to catch the Blessed Wind!
Bronan: Thanks friends, you want some ale for the road?
DM: No thank you brother
DM: Go careful of the mayor, he is a man of many strange plans!
Bronan: Ok, Faisal and Toma, you good friend, thanks for talk and advice
DM: A bell starts tolling- you hadn’t noticed before but it seems to be some sort of church or shrine, similar to the other buildings save for a squat bell tower. It is one street behind the Harbour Inn
Constance: You two gentlemen seem like a valuable font of information. What will it take for some more deets on this “Blessed Wind” you speak of?
Bronan: Faustus, you churchman, why the clinging and clanging?
Faustus: No idea, I don’t recognise this holy church (I assume?)
DM: Not form the bells Faustus, maybe if you went and investigated
Faustus: Ok I do that. (I can’t roll for about 30 mins because I’m in the gym.)
DM: 100 gold, little monk. For 100 gold I can give you a map with the location of the Blessed Wind’s secret lair!
DM: It’s fine, I’ve got your stats
DM: Faustus this is a temple to Tymora, goddess of luck. Pretty usual for a frontier town. There is a painting of her holding her lucky coin and smiling
DM: Constance, tymora is a favoured God of halflings!
DM: (are you playing a text based RPG whilst in the gym? If so, good effort)
Faustus: (Hey man I’m not a nerd)
Faustus: (Oh wait. I’m also wearing a wolverine t shirt. Never mind.)
DM: There a priest giving a sermon in the temple about good fortune favouring hard workers
DM: What do you guys want to do?
Constance: I want to go to the temple
DM: It’s a pretty sparse temple. The priest is an elderly female dwarf, who is giving a sermon to about four people
Constance: Cool. I’m going to sit in the back and scope it out.
DM: It’s a pretty standard boilerplate Tymora sermon, you’ve heard this sort of thing before. She notices three hardy adventurers with weapons covered in dust from the road at the back and looks a little nervous
DM: She wraps up the sermon pretty quick and her parishioners slowly file out. They seem like simple villagers, farmers and the like
DM: Greetings adventurers. Blessings of Tymora be upon you this fine day!
Constance: And to you my good lady!
Constance: Seems like a pretty low attendance at today’s sermon eh?
DM: Well, many are hard at work or worship in their own time!
DM: And truth be told we have not had much luck lately.
DM: Our idol was stolen a few weeks back, and since then nothing seems to be going right. And without Tymora’s idol to bless parishioners with luck, attendance has dropped
Constance: Who would do such a thing! Sacrilege!
DM: I know! It’s such a shame. A church with no idol is a hard thing to bear
DM: I don’t suppose…
DM: I’ve saved a little gold, I had been planning on repairing the roof. But if you could find the idol it is all yours!
Bronan: Bronan happy to help
Constance: I feel that taking your gold would be unbecoming. Perhaps a simple blessing and answers to some questions we might have would be payment enough.
Faustus: Have you any idea who may have taken the idol?
Bronan: Bronan has beer, no need for gold, maybe Bronan could do lifting and help with roof when idol back
DM: I think it was Drellich! He is the town drunk. He has had some gambling problems and always used to be in here praying for luck, but since it left so has he!
DM: You are such kind souls. Tymora be with you
DM: He lives two streets behind the mayor’s house, the house with the blue door
Bronan: What does he look like?
DM: Bald, very tall and gangly. He always wears black robes
Bronan: (by the by, Bronan doesn’t really worship a God, he’s just a ritual based tribal)
Bronan: Shall we go find him bros?
Constance: Let us seek out this wayward soul and bring him back to Tymoras light!
DM: It’s a small town, it takes you around five minutes to find a house with a blue door. There are empty glass bottle sputtered outside the door and heavy curtains drawn across the Windows (which are holes in the wall)
Come back next Monday for Chapter 8 of The Cursed Tomb!
Fancy supporting the site? You can pick up all of the 5th edition D&D books from Wizards of the Coast using our Amazon links below, and we’ll get a cut with no extra cost to you!